


flowers that bloom in winter

by tarinumenesse



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Confessions, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Fluff, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:42:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27589043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tarinumenesse/pseuds/tarinumenesse
Summary: When Dedue returns to Garreg Mach, Annette is waiting.
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Dedue Molinaro
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	flowers that bloom in winter

**Author's Note:**

> for Dedue Rarepair Weekend, day 1: bloom

Dedue stood in the centre of the courtyard in front of Garreg Mach’s greenhouse. Around him, violas and winter aconites bloomed in the garden beds, their faces turned towards the feeble sun. Smiling, as though the ravages of recent years were nothing. And in a way, they were. War meant nothing to plants. They were more resilient than humans, finding ways to thrive in the worst of circumstances. Like wildflowers under Duscur’s burning light, spruce trees in the chilling winds of Itha. Though a gardener may train and manage a plant’s growth, in truth his role was trivial, unimportant. Plants knew better than any other living being how to survive, even thrive, in turmoil.

Nonetheless, Dedue hesitated to push open the door of the greenhouse. He was frightened of what might lie beyond. So many things were broken. The most important things were broken. What hope was there that plants he had tended six years earlier had met a different fate?

With a sigh, Dedue rubbed his eyes. His first day back at the monastery had been long and difficult. The initial joy of his reunion with Dimitri had worn away, leaving suspicion in its wake. The prince, broken and betrayed often enough to mistrust any happiness, had subjected Dedue to almost constant scrutiny since their departure from Myrddin, watching for signs that he was not who he claimed to be. For the smallest hint that he was a new tormenter, another ghost, come to beg desperate acts of vengeance.

As such, Dedue had spent every spare moment of the day reacquainting himself with the Blue Lions. Taking tea with Mercedes, helping Ashe prepare lunch, debating history with Sylvain. Rebuilding relationships with people Dimitri had already learned to trust again in order to prove he had returned to help. All Dedue desired was to see Dimitri become the king he had always wanted to be, to assist him in achieving the dreams of which he had spoken.

Dreams that had been abandoned, like the flowers in the greenhouse, the moment Edelgard was unmasked.

“Dedue?”

As he looked over his shoulder, he prayed the jump of his heart to calm. Annette was coming towards him, her damp hair and her cheeks flushed, suggesting she had been at the sauna. She glowed in the light of dusk, wearing a simple, apricot-coloured dress, its scooped neck revealing her freckled neck and shoulders, its sleeves cuffed at the wrist to guard against the cool evening air.

Another abandoned dream.

“I was about to go inside when I saw you here,” Annette said, pointing towards the dormitory. She was using the same quarters she had kept while they were students at the academy. Dedue remembered too clearly the last time he had escorted her there, only three days before the end. Try as he might, it was impossible to forget how well her body fit in his arms.

“Are you admiring the flowers?” Annette asked, hugging herself as she stopped next to him. “They’re very pretty this time of year.”

“Indeed,” Dedue replied, unable to stop himself from comparing her eyes to the palest of the violas. “But you should hurry inside. It is too cold to be out.”

Ignoring his hypocritical words, Annette took a step towards the nearest garden bed and crouched down, folding her arms over her knees, to smile at the flowers in question.

“I wish it grew cold enough here for snow,” she said. “Flowers are loveliest in snow. In Dominic, the hellebores are like little pink fairies dancing at midwinter. And after the lightest falls, the winterberries…I know they’re poisonous, but they look good enough to eat straight off the bush.”

It was miraculous, the way Annette brought sunshine to the dimmest of days with the simplest of words. Dedue lowered himself down beside her, eager for more of her radiance.

“In Duscur there was a tree that produced similar-looking fruit to winterberries, but edible,” he said, reaching out to caress the petals of the bloom in front of him. They were impossibly soft and fragile. “Its juice was very sweet.”

Annette rested her cheek on her arms. “Really? Have you tried growing them here?”

“No.”

“You should! I bet everyone would love to taste it.”

Her smile was infectious. Dedue felt one grow across his face in kind, even though his response would disappoint her.

“The seeds cannot be procured in Faerghus.”

“Oh.” Annette giggled nervously as she lifted her head and looked away. “How stupid of me.”

“You are not stupid.”

Her eyes whipped back to meet his, lips parted in surprise.

“I do not think that someone ‘stupid’ could perform the magic I witnessed you wield at Myrddin,” Dedue added quietly.

At that, Annette laughed.

“Oh no, it’s possible,” she said, smoothing her skirts over her knees. “Believe me.”

There had never been a time when Dedue had not felt pain upon hearing Annette speak so dismissively of herself. Or at least, he didn’t remember a time. He wondered once more at the people who had raised her, what they must have said to cause her to judge herself so harshly. One day, he would set them right. If he ever had that right.

Standing, Dedue offered Annette his hand.

“Believe me in turn when I say that you are the brightest mage in all Faerghus,” he said.

Colour rose in her cheeks in a way that seemed to have little to do with her recent visit to the sauna. She placed her tiny hand in his, gripping just tight enough to keep her balance. Though disappointed, Dedue kept his fingers relaxed and open, respecting her wishes.

“Have you visited the greenhouse yet?” Annette asked as she rose.

“No.”

“You should. I’m sure Hedda will be really glad to see you.”

The hours Dedue had spent in the greenhouse as a student had resulted in many conversations with Garreg Mach’s gardener, growing in him a profound respect for her and her knowledge. He smiled at the thought of being able to continue their discussions.

“Hedda has returned?” he asked.

Annette put her hand more firmly in his, her palm warm. Something like lightning shot straight to Dedue’s heart.

“Come on,” she said, tugging him towards the building. “Everyone missed you a lot, you know.”

The balmy air of the greenhouse struck them the moment Annette opened the door. She let go of Dedue’s hand as she crossed the threshold and hurried ahead, searching.

“Hedda?” she called.

While she disappeared around the corner, Dedue remained frozen in the doorway. Before him was a rich sea of green, punctuated by the red and orange leaves of crotons. The orchids were in full bloom, pink and white, defying the winter strengthening outside the glass walls. It was so much more beautiful than he recalled, flying completely in the face of his fears.

“She’s not here.”

Annette reappeared in the centre of the pathway, her hair and dress vivid against the foliage. Her lip blossomed a deeper pink as she chewed on it, inviting distracting memories. Dedue glanced at the plants in a hopeless attempt to combat them.

“But it is clear that she is hard at work.” The door swung shut behind him as he entered the greenhouse properly. “Everything is as it was.”

“Not everything.”

Dedue looked back to Annette to see her reach towards him.

“Come with me,” she said.

She led him through the greenhouse to the very back corner. There, the Duscur roses he had planted so long ago sat in a neat row. But their leaves curled in on themselves and the green buds of their flowers were stubbornly closed.

“When we returned, they were withered and dying,” Annette said. “There were cracks in the greenhouse roof. I think rain got through.”

“But they’re alive,” Dedue breathed, letting go of her hand. He knelt down and pressed the soil at the base of the nearest bush. It was completely dry, as it needed to be for the flowers to have any chance of opening.

“The professor and I have been taking care of them,” Annette said. “But we must be doing something wrong. The buds appeared after I infused the roots with magic, but that’s it.”

Dedue sat back on his heels. “That is odd,” he murmured.

“Maybe they were just waiting for you and they’ll bloom now you’re back!”

He looked up, startled.

“I mean, it would make sense,” Annette stammered under his gaze. “Wouldn’t it? You took such good care of them before. Maybe they were so sad to think that you were gone, they couldn’t keep growing.”

Dedue smiled. “I suspect it had more to do with the Verdant Rain. This variety likes humid air, but not wet soil.”

A new blush spread across Annette’s cheeks.

“You’re probably right,” she mumbled. “I’m sorry. It’s just…you seemed upset.”

Unable to endure how adorable she looked when flustered, Dedue focused once more on the roses.

“I’m not upset,” he said.

“Oh?”

“No. I am honoured that you took the time to care for these plants.”

There was a silence, but it was not uncomfortable. It made him hope that perhaps, in time, something could be salvaged.

Dedue leaned forward and rubbed the leaves of one of the Duscur roses. In the meantime he could make a fertiliser using fish bones from the kitchen, which might...

“They were my last hope.”

Dedue’s breath came short. Utterly bewildered, he turned to discover Annette twisting her hands together, her expression panicked yet determined.

“I thought that if these roses could survive all the terrible things that have happened, surely you could too,” she said. “And, well, I wasn’t wrong, was I?”

Every one of her words was laced with pain and longing, reflecting the emotions hidden within his own soul. How many times had he summoned her image during his search for Dimitri, in order to simply survive the nights he spent in the open, on the hard ground, wrapped in nothing but cold and despair? 

Dedue stood, using the time it gave him to gather his thoughts.

“Annette, I…I am so sorry.”

Annette’s eyes filled with tears.

“Oh,” she said, retreating. “In that case…it’s okay. Don’t worry. I don’t…”

She had misunderstood. Dedue moved forward, quickly closing the distance that she seemed keen to create between them.

“No,” he said. “I am sorry for not returning sooner.”

Annette stilled. Dedue took one more step, bringing them face to face, though still an arm’s length apart.

“I am sorry for raising your hopes only to disappoint you,” he continued. “If I had known what was to come, I would not have kissed you that evening. I would have waited until I was free to give you everything you deserve. But please know that at the time, I had every intention of finding a way to remain by your side. If only Dimitri…”

She smiled. It broke his heart and stopped his voice, contrasted as it was with her tears.

“I understand,” she said.

Dedue looked towards the ground. Even if she claimed to understand, it was unfair to expect anything before he explained himself properly.

“I lost my entire family,” he said. “When I had no one left, Dimitri chose to become my brother. I cannot abandon him now, when he needs me most.”

Annette took his hand and stepped closer, her head tilted back as though she meant to kiss him.

“I won’t ever ask you to,” she said. “So won’t you let me be someone special to you as well?”

A thrill rushed through Dedue’s veins, a flare of hope that had simmered for far longer than he had dared admit. Perhaps not all important things were broken. Perhaps dreams could thrive in the worst circumstances.

“Annette,” Dedue said, chest tight with anticipation, heart stuttering, “you already are.”

She frowned a moment before another smile, brighter than any he had seen yet that evening, bloomed.

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “Well, in that case…”

She grabbed the collar of his shirt and yanked him down to her height. Her kiss was clumsy, messy, eager, and brilliant as the sun, infused with life, joy, hope. Overwhelmed by it, unable to contain his happiness, Dedue caught her around the waist and lifted her from the ground. She broke away from his lips with a laugh, her arms tightening around his neck like a vice.

“Dedue!” she squealed in mock protest.

Smiling, he placed her back on the ground before taking her face between his hands and kissing her tenderly.

“I missed you, Annie,” he said.

Annette broke from his hold, but only to embrace him, her cheek against his chest. He stroked her hair, looking down at her in awe as she whispered back, “I missed you more.”


End file.
